


Renunciation, Reconciliation

by harpydora



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Family Drama, Family Dynamics, Family Feels, Gen, Season: COUNTER/Weight, Slice of Life, implied Cass/AuDy if you squint, implied Sokrates/Integrity if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:15:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22515334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harpydora/pseuds/harpydora
Summary: A portrait of the Pelagios family, after Rigour.
Relationships: Cassander Timaeus Berenice & Sokrates Nikon Artemisios & Euanthe Akakios Themistokles
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28
Collections: Secret Samol 2019





	Renunciation, Reconciliation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [waveridden](https://archiveofourown.org/users/waveridden/gifts).



> Happy (belated) Secret Samol, @waveridden! The request I chose involved Cass having a good relationship with their family/being happy, and I tried my best. I can't help but think that there's a little work the Pelagios siblings have to do to repair their relationships with each other, which I ended up exploring some, but they get there. I played it a little fast and loose with some of the canon and shamelessly cribbed my own OCs for this, sorry. >.>
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy this rambling love letter to the Pelagios sibs and what could've been.

The impact was frankly better than Cass expected. _Apokine's_ antiquated escape pod had the bare minimum of safety gear according to modern standards—just a five-point harness and a helmet—but Cass managed to use its rudimentary steering capabilities to bring the pod down in a body of water that was hopefully not too far from their intended destination. Once the pod indicated that it was safe to open the hatch, Cass fumbled with the buckles on the safety harness and hastily threw off the straps. Their fingers trembled a little as they floundered with the release controls, but after a moment it popped open to let in the fresh sea air of the planet Glimmer.

It took a moment for their eyes to adjust to the glare of the sun reflected on water, but once they did, Cass scanned the horizon. The water was placid in all directions, the wind barely stirring the surface of it. It was pretty, but there was just one problem with the view: there was no sign of the shore in sight. It wasn't bad enough that they'd missed their rendezvous time by a mile; they'd missed their rendezvous location—a tiny coastal Apostolosian settlement—too.

Cass swore under their breath. They'd need to contact Sokrates or Euanthe and hope one of them had made it here ahead of them and that they were in a position to mount a rescue mission. They yanked off their helmet and reached up to re-enable their rigalia's comms functionality. 

A burst of static exploded in their ear, almost causing them to shout and tear off their rigalia in response. They disabled their comms, swearing again, and flopped back into the escape pod's cramped seat with a groan. _Fuck._ No way to call for help. 

What the hell were they supposed to do now? Eidolons only knew where they were (aside from "dead in the water," of course), and with no way to call for help… It fucking figured that they'd make it this far only to fumble things at the very end. They'd been no good as a scion, even worse as an heir, they had realistically only barely held it together as Apokine, and now they had screwed up being a hero. 

They had just traded one agonizing death for another, but this one wouldn't even mean anything. The escape pod bobbed gently on the water as Cass mulled over their fate. 

A few minutes later, they growled and punched one of the panels next to them. No, they were _not_ going down like this, starving to death in the middle of an ocean trying to get to some podunk town. Just because their comms were busted didn't mean they were helpless. The navigation system built into their rigalia wasn't top of the line and hadn't been for years, but if it still worked…

They toggled it on, and in front of their eyes, a map of the area flickered into existence.

Bingo.

The pod had gone way off-course, but not as far off as they'd feared. Cass stood took a deep breath, then another, trying to acclimate themself to the tang of salt in the back of their throat. Okay. Two hundred miles and some change was doable. Not comfortable, and not easy (especially since the life of the Apokine didn't lend itself to keeping up with their PT routine), but doable.

They cast their gaze up through the open hatch. The sun hung high in the cloudless sky. Eidolons, they were in for a massive sunburn.

Well. Not as bad as the one they'd just escaped.

The first bark of laughter escaped Cass, catching them completely off-guard. They laughed, long and hard and with an edge of almost mania ringing the sound. Fuck. Rigour was _dead._ After all this time, Rigour was well and truly _dead._ And as far as anyone else was concerned, so were they.

It took them a minute before they realized that the laughter had turned into something more—great heaving sobs born in part of relief and in part of grief. It took them even longer before they were able to get control of themself again, and they scrubbed at their eyes with the back of their hand to wipe away the tears. 

Okay. Enough with the emotional outbursts. They had a long metaphorical road ahead of them, and the sooner they got going, the sooner they'd be done with it. 

Cass pulled themself out of the escape pod and oriented themself toward their destination. Before they could give it any more thought, they dove into the calm ocean waters. 

*

In Cass's memory of that day, Sokrates closed and bolted the door behind themself and didn't immediately respond to Euanthe's initial demands of, "What do you think you're doing?" Rather than engage with their sibling, they paced the perimeter of the room a few times, waving a trinket that Cass belatedly realized was meant to scan for spying devices. 

Once they were satisfied, Sokrates pocketed the device. Some of Integrity's tendrils glinted from underneath the cuff of their jacket where the motion caused the sleeve to ride up. Sokrates absently tugged the fabric back into place, but Cass knew by the pinched look to Euanthe's eyes that they'd already caught a glimpse of it. 

"Are you quite done with the theatrics?" Euanthe huffed. 

"Listen, we can't be too careful. This is…" Sokrates trailed off. The fact that they didn't have a disarmingly goofy response spoke volumes. Whatever they had called Cass and Euanthe here for must be seriously weighty.

Euanthe picked up on that, too. Their grip on the handle of their cane tightened. "Well, then. What is so important that I had to reschedule my appointment with the Minister of the Interior with barely half an hour's notice?" 

"I've got…" Sokrates paused, closed their eyes, and sucked in a breath through their teeth. "I've got a proposal for you. I've been thinking a lot. About Apostolos and the Demarchy and the future. I mean, the future if we can take Rigour down." 

"That's a big if," Cass said. There was no bitterness to their words. It was just a simple fact. Euanthe scoffed. 

Sokrates opened their eyes. "See? It's thinking like that that's gonna screw up everything. If we can't look for a better future, then what's the point? Thinking about the future is important." 

"Go on," Euanthe said. 

"Listen. Integrity and I have been talking, and… We think Apostolos, the Demarchy—hell, maybe even the whole Golden Branch—would be better off with all of us as dead heroes than as living leaders."

Cass blinked at their sibling in disbelief. "Excuse me?"

At the same time, Euanthe bristled, obviously restraining themself from rising from their seat and doing something drastic. "I nearly gave my life for the Empire once, and I will do it again if I must, but I am not going to throw it away just because my sibling thinks I'm better off _dead,_ " they spat. 

"I'm not saying we should commit suicide, and I don't want you dead! I'm saying—" here, Sokrates leaned forward and lowered their voice, "—we should take this as our chance to fake our own deaths. Go into hiding. Let our memories carry everyone through once Rigour is gone. It's the best way. Probably the only way to keep the Imperial loyalists from tearing everything apart." 

Cass was pretty sure they would have been able to hear a pin drop in the silence that fell in the wake of their sibling's words. "Holy shit, you're serious," they finally whispered. 

"Yeah," Sokrates said, their voice still quiet. 

"This is _unhinged,_ " hissed Euanthe. Their knuckles were pale from how tightly their fingers were wrapped around their cane's handle. "Integrity put you up to this, didn't they?" 

"Integrity and I talked about it— _like I said_ —but this was totally my idea," Sokrates insisted indignantly. "The Branch isn't gonna be able to move on while the Pelagios line is still hanging around."

Neither Cass nor Euanthe had a response to that. 

*

It took Cass a little over a day and a half to swim the distance between where their escape pod had landed and the shore. It had been ages since they'd done any sort of aquatic training, but they still remembered most of the basics and the water wasn't so salinated as to irritate their gills as they breathed it. By the time they finally dragged themself onto the sandy beach, they were exhausted, the back of their neck was blistered from sun exposure, and the unforgiving sun had already passed over the horizon. As soon as they emerged from the surf and made their way to a low dune, they collapsed on the ground. 

The sand underneath them was soft and powdery. Still not the most comfortable thing to bury one's face in, but it wasn't so uncomfortable that Cass felt the need to move from their prone position. 

They stayed that way, just breathing, for a while—how long, they couldn't say at first, but a quick check of their chronometer indicated it was more than twenty minutes. Finally, they reached up and touched their rigalia, pulling up the map of the local terrain. 

They nearly cried again from relief. The rendezvous point they and their siblings had agreed upon was only a couple more miles away. It may be the longest couple of miles in their life in the wake of their grueling swim, but they were almost there. Almost to their new home. 

Mustering all the strength they had left, Cass pushed themself up into an upright position. All they had to do was get up and put one foot in front of the other. 

About 5,000 times. 

Fuck. 

From the top of the dune they'd collapsed near, Cass heard a startled, "Oh!" They squinted up to find an older-looking Apostolosian standing above them. They were of average height, with their white hair piled on the top of their head in an inelegant bun and a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles perched on their nose. Their eyes were wide in surprise. "Hello, stranger. I wasn't expecting to see anyone here tonight. Might I ask what brings you here?" Their words were colored by the local regional accent—all long vowels and softened plosives—indicating that they'd either been born on Glimmer or lived here long enough to lose their native accent. 

Cass scrambled to come up with a plausible story, but their brain provided nothing. So they told the truth. "I crash-landed about 200 miles out at sea and I've been swimming since sometime around noon yesterday to get here."

"Oh!" the stranger exclaimed again. "You poor thing. That's quite the ordeal. I can call for help, just let me get back to my home; it's only about fifteen minutes from here. I didn't bring any comms devices with me." 

"No!" Cass said, a little more forcefully than they'd intended. The last thing they needed was to immediately come to the attention of authorities. "No. I've got… I've got family here who can help me. They aren't far from here. I just need to get to them." 

The stranger hesitated a moment before nodding. "Alright. I can at least help you do that, then. What's your name?" 

It was Cass's turn to hesitate. They floundered for a moment before finally recalling the cover identity that Euanthe had crafted for them. "Agapios," they said after a pause they desperately hoped hadn't been too long. "Agapios Zosimus Demostrate." They had to fight not to cringe as they said it; why Euanthe had purposely saddled them all with unfortunate names, Cass couldn't begin to understand. 

"Your parents didn't care for you much, did they?" the stranger said with a wry smile. "I am Galatea Iona Stephenos. It's a pleasure to meet you. Can you stand, Agapios?" 

Cass considered for a moment, then tried to force themself to their feet. They wobbled a little as they did so, but their legs supported them in the end. "Yeah. I'm good. Where I need to go is in that direction. About two and a half miles." They gestured vaguely south-east. 

Galatea nodded closed the distance between them, cautiously making their way down the sand dune. Once they were closer, Cass could tell that they were at least old enough to be one of Cass's parents (though probably not quite old enough to be Euanthe's). "Here, lean on me and just tell me where we're going." 

Cass's flight suit squelched a little during the first part of that arduous walk, but by the time they reached their destination, it was mostly dry and the salt had crusted over. It chafed, but Cass didn't complain. It was a damn sight better than still being in the water.

Galatea, thankfully, didn't try to make small talk. They remained largely silent, occasionally asking Cass if they were still going in the right direction and making encouraging noises when Cass felt close to collapsing again. 

Under their feet, the ground shifted from the sand of the shore, to gravel, and finally to solid earth sparsely populated by stout wild grasses. As they approached, Galatea's demeanor brightened. "Oh, your family is here? I didn't realize Iria and Frona were expecting a visit from another family member."

The names meant nothing to Cass for a moment before they remembered that they were their siblings' new identities. "Uh, yeah," they said. "I'll be staying with them for a while. You know them?" 

Galatea nodded. "Certainly. I know there is a bit of distance between us, but we're neighbors. I met them both in town, of course; it isn't as if I walk the perimeter of our property checking for newcomers. Your family seems nice. What's your relation? Cousins?" 

"They're my older siblings," Cass said. At least that part of their story was easy to keep straight. 

"Oh! I can see the resemblance now. Ah well, my eyes aren't what they used to be." They offered Cass an encouraging smile. "Come on, enough chit-chat. We're almost there. Just a little further." 

In the ensuing silence, Cass glanced skyward. Above them, unfamiliar constellations hung in the darkness of night. A small part of them wondered what it was going to be like to live under them. 

*

The house they'd chosen as their hide-out was an antiquated thing that wasn't even outfitted with a proper intercom or call button. Sokrates answered the door after Cass spent nearly a minute knocking. They looked haggard, like they'd barely had any rest in recent memory, but it was clear from the bleary look to their eyes that Cass had woken them up. 

A complicated series of expressions crossed their face—of the three of them, Sokrates was by far the worst at hiding their emotions—before it finally settled on a wan sort of smile. "C—Agapios! You're, uh… you're late? It's late. Oh, hey Gala. See you already met Agapios here." 

"Indeed," said Galatea placidly. "And now that I've brought them to you, I trust you'll be able to take care of them?" 

Sokrates nodded emphatically. "Yeah. Yes. Thank you. Have a good night, Gala." 

"Good night and safe sailing," Galatea replied, patting Cass on the shoulder. "I'm sure I'll see you all later." 

Sokrates nodded. "Of course." 

Their neighbor flashed them a warm smile before they turned and made their way back down the stone-lined path that led to the front door. 

With Galatea gone, there was no sort of propriety holding Sokrates back. They grabbed Cass by the shoulders and pulled them in for a bone-crushing hug. "Apole, I'm so glad you're here," they said. There was a watery quality to their words; they were crying. "We thought you were dead for real. We didn't hear anything from you, and the whole Branch saw what you did with _Apokine…_ "

"Yeah," Cass wheezed. "Can you let me go? I can't breathe." 

"Oh! Shit. Yeah." Sokrates released their hold on Cass and took a step back. They kept their hands firmly on Cass's shoulders, though. Tears collected in the corners of their eyes. "Sorry, little sib. I just… when you didn't make it here on time… we thought we lost you." 

"It was pretty close," Cass admitted, dropping their gaze. "I don't want to talk about it—"

The sound of wood creaking brought them up short. They hadn't really had the chance to take in their surroundings, but they turned their attention toward the source of the noise to see Euanthe descending a wooden staircase. They leaned heavily on the railing. "What the hell is all the noise about? I only just—"

Only then did their eyes fall on Cass, and they raised one hand to their chest. An audible gasp escaped their lips. "Cass." They hobbled down the last few stairs and closed the distance between themself and their siblings. "We thought…"

"Yeah." 

"You self-sacrificial ass," Euanthe snapped, their expression clouding over. "The point was to make everyone _else_ think we were dead, not each other." 

"Can we not do this?" Cass put all of their exhaustion into their words. "I need to get all this salt off and maybe sleep for a year. It's been a long past few days." 

Euanthe pressed their lips into a tight line, then nodded curtly. "Fine. We'll continue this conversation later. I'm going to get what rest I can and I hope you are able to do the same." Their piece said, they turned and made their way back up the creaky stairs. Cass watched them go, too tired to feel more than a bone-deep weariness. 

"It's gonna be a long rest of our lives if this is how they plan on acting," Cass said.

Sokrates barely managed to stifle their laugh behind one hand. "No shit. Whatever. They'll get over it. You know they don't know how to act like a normal person when they're having an emotion." 

It was Cass's turn to huff out a laugh. "Yeah, I guess."

"C'mon, Cass," Sokrates said, clapping them on the shoulder. "Let me give you the half-cred tour of the place, then you can go wash yourself off." 

*

Over the next two days, Euanthe barely said ten words to Cass, which suited them just fine. They barely spent any time awake anyway, only venturing out long enough to wolf down leftovers from meals that Sokrates had made before shuffling back to their room and passing out again. 

On the third day, they woke up and felt alert enough to pay attention to their surroundings: their room was sparsely decorated, with white walls, teal curtains, a tiny writing desk in one corner, and the narrow bed they'd been sleeping on. The mattress was firm, but not uncomfortable, and the sheets—while not particularly luxurious—weren't scratchy either. They were also teal, but the duvet on top was green with gold accents. Decoration was probably more of Euanthe's thing than Sokrates's, but it seemed unlikely that they would have remembered Cass's favorite color. 

Oh well. They shrugged off the covers, swung their legs out of bed, and finally rose feeling like an actual person rather than a bundle of jellied muscle tissue. 

They made their way to the kitchen, intent on more leftovers, only to find Sokrates and Euanthe sitting at the small table in the breakfast nook, talking in heated tones over what was probably lunch. The food looked barely touched, and while Sokrates looked mostly calm, Euanthe's expression was stormy. 

"Well, what do _you_ suggest?" Euanthe hisses. "We are stuck in a backwater town that you and your pet robot chose, with no consideration for how we can move forward. We have no resources, no connections, and three of the most recognizable faces in the Golden Branch." 

"Integrity isn't my 'pet robot,'" Sokrates snapped. "And we chose this place _because_ it's kinda backwater. Fewer people to recognize us, and the community is pretty tight-knit. No one will care that we look like some dead royals." 

"And what about the lack of resources?" Euanthe pressed. "We have a house and food for now, but what about medical care? What about other necessities? Incidentals?" 

"We'll figure it out. Cass is a doc, and I'm pretty sure we can just get jobs in town once the trust you set up runs out." 

"I can see what the clinic in town looks like," Cass said, slipping themself clumsily into the conversation. Sokrates and Euanthe's heads snapped up and they both turned their attention towards them. 

"Your credentials won't stand up to much rigorous scrutiny," Euanthe protested. 

Cass shrugged. "Most places won't turn down an extra set of hands. Especially this far out." 

Sokrates grinned. "See? We've got this. Cass and I can bring in some creds and you can run our numbers." 

The statement took the wind out of Euanthe's sails, and they visibly deflated. "Fine. I suppose it's decided. In that case, I think I will take my leave." To Cass, they said, "Good afternoon. I hope you're feeling better?" 

Before Cass could do more than nod in response, Euanthe rose to their feet and brushed past them. Their food sat abandoned on the table. 

Cass's stomach growled. 

"Looks like they're handling the whole 'not being a ruler anymore' thing great," they said as they slid into the chair across from Sokrates. The food Euanthe had left was lukewarm at best, but Cass's stomach was grateful for it all the same. 

"Yeah, no shit," Sokrates said with a wry sort of smile. "Glad to see you on your feet." 

"Glad to _be_ on my feet," Cass replied. "D'you make this?" They gestured with their fork at the plate-formerly-known-as-Euanthe's.

Sokrates picked up their own fork. "Yeah. Why?" 

"You still can't cook," Cass said even as they took another huge bite. 

"Better me than Euanthe, and you were passed out," Sokrates chuckled. 

"If we're stuck here for a while, that's got to change. I can't be the only one of us who can make something edible." 

"I guess," Sokrates said with a shrug. "Not like I've got anything better to do. Well, other than try to handle our grumpy-ass sibling. I don't know why they're freaking out. The trust they set up won't run out for a while as long as we're not stupid, and we've all been in worse places during the war. I don't see what the big deal is." 

Cass went to take another bite, realized their plate was empty, and made the snap judgement to steal food off of Sokrates's plate. In response, their sibling just shoved it in their direction. "What, you mean other than the fact they've always been a prissy asshole and nothing's ever been good enough for them?"

The words were out of their mouth before Cass could consider them, and they came from the exact same place that had made them sneer, 'I've been an only child for ten years.'

Sokrates snorted. "Okay, I'll give you that." 

After a moment's pause, Cass heaved a sigh. They were being unfair and they knew it. "Euanthe's always had a purpose. They spent almost their whole life being raised to be Apokine. You and me, we've done other stuff. But politics was all they had. They're probably feeling lost, and they're definitely not taking it well." 

"They're being an ass," Sokrates said. "If you think I'm gonna cut them any slack…" 

Cass nodded. "Yeah. They're an adult and they should act like it." 

"Okay. Well, anyway, it's good to see you on your feet. Maybe we can go into town today and I can show you around. Leave Euanthe to stew for a little bit." 

"Sounds great," Cass said, smiling for the first time in a while. 

*

It turned out town was twenty minutes away by way of an old clunker of a car that Sokrates had stashed in the stand-alone garage next to the house, and there wasn't much to it. In the town center was a modest temple to the Eidolons—clearly the main gathering place and hub of the community. It seemed Integrity and Sokrates had picked a place with a strong sense of spirituality; a trait that Cass hoped wouldn't come to grate on them as someone who had long since abandoned their daily devotionals. 

Around that were other buildings: a couple of shops, a diner, and indeed a medical clinic that looked a little run down from the outside. Cass made note to investigate it later, when they'd more thoroughly settled in. A few people populated the sidewalks, all of them moving with a lazy purpose. They had places to be but no urgency to be there. 

It was, in a word, quaint. 

"It's not much, but it's something," Sokrates said as they circled the town center. "There's not that many people here, and most of 'em are second- or third-generation colonists." 

"So it's pretty insular." It was a statement rather than a question. 

"Nah, not really. I mean this is the middle of nowhere, so it's not like they get too many visitors. But they're pretty welcoming around here. I guess with a population this small this far out, they need the help of everyone they can get." 

Sokrates parked the old car—badly—and dragged Cass around the city square. They pointed out some local landmarks, gave an abridged lecture on the area's history, and greeted several people as they passed. Though they were presumably strangers, they greeted Sokrates and Cass warmly. It was such a stark contrast from Centralia and the capitol on Apostolos, where random greetings on the street might garner one a glare, or possibly a stabbing. 

At Sokrates's insistence, they visited a general store that stood just off the main road. From the outside it was nothing impressive, nor was it anything to write home about on the inside. However, as Cass scanned the shelves and their contents, their eyes landed on the shop-keeper. Something about them seemed… familiar. 

The question of where Cass had seen them before was answered when Sokrates smiled and called out, "Gala! Glad we caught you on the job." They turned up their palms and raised them in greeting. 

Galatea offered a palms-up greeting in return. "Iria! Agapios! Welcome, welcome. You both look well." 

"Thanks," Sokrates said. "It's been a lot easier now that we know Agapios is safe. And they've mostly recovered, so I figured I'd bring them out shopping with me since we needed a couple of things."

Cass cleared their throat. "Uh. Yeah. Good to see you, too." 

Galatea's smile was warm and wide. "Well, don't let me keep you from your shopping. I'm liable to just talk your ears off if you aren't careful. Just let me know if you need anything." 

"Thank you, _presbuteros,_ " Cass said. This elicited a hearty laugh from Galatea. 

"I don't think I'm worthy of the _presbuteros_ title yet, guppy," they chuckled. "Though you may call my spouse that when you meet them." 

"We'll keep that in mind," said Sokrates. They placed a hand on Cass's arm and began steering them down an aisle of merchandise. "C'mon, Gapi, let's pick up what we need." 

Cass didn't resist Sokrates as they herded them through the store. Most of what Sokrates picked up was junk food, but they grabbed a couple of staples and a small package of spongy berry cakes. Likely as a peace offering to Euanthe. 

The store carried a wide variety of things, from food to basic cosmetics to personal care items to a handful of other miscellaneous things. Cass stopped in front of a shelf of incense and offering bowls, turning one of the bowls over in their hands before setting it back. They had no need for it, so they moved on. 

In the back corner of the store, set under a stout grow-lamp, was a small collection of plants. There were two succulents, a fern, a local flower, and a somewhat wilted tomato plant. 

A sudden ache gripped their chest as Cass drifted toward the poor tomato. In their head, they heard the phrase in AuDy's dull, mechanical tones: "Cultivate saplings." A directive AuDy had only spoken about once in the dark of night after the disastrous state dinner, but one that rushed back to them upon seeing the tired, struggling plant. 

AuDy… 

Cass shook their head in an attempt to stave off the melancholy at the thought of their fallen friend. They weren't quite successful, but it was enough to allow them to school their expression.

There was really only one course of action they could take. They grabbed the tomato plant and clutched the pot close to their chest. When they encountered Sokrates again, they shoved the pot in their sibling's direction. "Buy me this." 

Confusion momentarily clouded Sokrates's features, but then they nodded. "Sure thing. You want anything else?" 

"No. Just this." 

"Okay," Sokrates said. "Let's check out." 

*

Before Sokrates even had a chance to finish securing the car in the garage or unload their groceries, such as they were, Cass took the tomato plant and made a bee-line for the breakfast nook and the wide bay window there. Euanthe, who stood at the kitchen counter assembling some sort of sandwich, watched them with a baffled sort of interest. As Cass fussed with the plant's placement in the window sill, Euanthe drifted closer. Their sandwich laid forgotten on the counter. 

"I didn't know you enjoyed horticulture," they said.

Cass bristled. "Why would you?"

"I'm your older sibling," Euanthe sniffed. "I would like to think that I would have absorbed _some_ knowledge about your hobbies and interests, having known you your entire life." 

"My 'entire life?'" Cass scoffed. "What part of 'I've been an only child for ten years' did you not understand?" 

"You didn't mean that. You've never been an only child. You've always had Sokrates and myself." Euanthe's voice was low and calm, but Cass knew them well enough to understand that they were carefully keeping their emotions out of their words. 

Cass didn't turn to look at them, instead focusing their attention on their new sapling. "You don't get to tell me what I meant. You were effectively _dead,_ Euanthe. You weren't going to come out of it, and I had to come to terms with the fact that I was never going to get to be with my big sib again. Then, one day, you woke up and it was a miracle. I was so happy! But our parents shipped me off to Counterweight before I even got the chance to see you again, because they had their precious heir back and they didn't need me anymore. _And then,_ when everything got settled, you didn't even bother to fucking call me. Or write. Or send a damn message in a bottle. Nothing! I didn't even hear from you until after our parent died!"

They straightened and whirled on Euanthe, locking eyes with them. "So, yeah, I think I meant it when I said I've been an only child for ten years." 

There was a long pause before Euanthe spoke again in their even tones. "I couldn't contact you, no more than I could've tried to contact Sokrates. I had a duty to the Apokine and the Empire, and I had to present a united front with our parent. I couldn't disobey their wishes." 

"Fuck your duty! You're family! _Sokrates,_ the fucking so-called _traitor,_ reached out before you did. Because they always knew there were more important things than just blindly serving the Apokine." 

"Don't bring Sokrates into this," Euanthe said, words suddenly cold. "They _were_ a traitor, whether their actions were justified or not. And they committed regicide—more, they committed _matricide._ They have no place here if you want to talk about family. And communication is a funny thing: it requires at least two parties. You were already miserable at keeping a low profile after the war; what difference would it have made for you to have sent a proverbial 'message in a bottle,' as you put it?" 

"You arrogant piece of shit! You had all the power there, not me! I bet you think things would've been better off if Sokrates and I had stayed swept under the rug and our parent was still Apokine."

"No!" Euanthe exclaimed, recoiling aghast. "If I thought that, I wouldn't _be_ here. I would have fulfilled my duty to Apostolos in its entirety, Sokrates's escape plan be damned. Or, more likely, Sokrates would have had to shoot me shortly after killing our parent. If I thought that, I never would have stepped aside and endorsed you as Apokine, nor would I have served as an advisor to Sokrates's administration, despite our ideological differences and my dislike of their—" They swallowed their next word and tried again. "Their 'partner.'"

"What the hell is going on?" Sokrates demanded from the doorway to the kitchen. Their hands were full of the bags that Cass had neglected to help them with. "I can practically hear you two yelling from the garage." 

Cass held Euanthe's gaze, mouth clamped resolutely shut. They silently dared Euanthe to speak first; perhaps a petty impulse, but they were too angry to care. To their credit, Euanthe did not flinch or look away, and Cass could see in their eyes the mental calculations about what to say next that they must be making. After a moment, they took a deep breath through their nose and turned to Sokrates.

"We're clearing the air," they said in their best diplomatic and neutral tone. "There have been multiple misunderstandings—" At this, Cass snorted. Euanthe shot them a glare before clearing their throat and continuing, "There have been some misunderstandings and they have become impossible to ignore." 

Sokrates glanced between the pair of them skeptically. "'Misunderstandings,' huh? Right." 

Euanthe pinched the bridge of their nose. "I don't want to fight."

"Could've fooled me," Cass muttered, crossing their arms. Euanthe ignored them, but the corner of Sokrates's mouth twitched. 

"I wanted to know when Cass developed an interest in keeping plants," Euanthe finished as if Cass hadn't said anything. "Things just… spiralled a little out of control from there." 

Silence descended on the three of them, tense and thick. It cooled the fires of Cass's anger just enough to take the edge off. They opened their mouth to say something—what, they didn't quite know—but Sokrates beat them to it. 

"I wouldn't've shot you."

At last, Euanthe cast their eyes down at their hands, a rueful smile on their face. "And that is one of the many differences between the two of us. You were never ruthless, and that is one of the many reasons you are a better person than I am. I don't want to fight. I mean it." Without waiting for either Cass or Sokrates to respond, Euanthe brushed past them both and made their way towards the front door. 

Sokrates set down their bags after a few stunned seconds and turned to call after them. "Euanthe, wait!" 

But when Euanthe didn't stop, neither Sokrates nor Cass followed them. 

*

Cass spent the next week locked in a careful dance with their siblings. Through unspoken agreement, they took to occupying the common areas in shifts, with Sokrates overlapping between Cass and Euanthe and Cass spending more time in the kitchen to tend to their plant. They fussed over it like an overbearing parent as they tried to find the place for optimal sunlight and the correct amount to water it.

"When _did_ you grow a green thumb?" Sokrates asked them two days after the plant came home.

Grimacing, Cass stroked a withered leaf. "I don't think I have one. It's not getting any better."

Sokrates laid a hand on their shoulder. "It'll probably take a little time."

"Yeah, you're probably right," Cass said, though their heart wasn't in it.

Three days later, though, the tomato still didn't seem to have improved.

Euanthe found Cass on the third day. Cass had claimed on of the trickery rocking chairs that had been left on the front porch by the house's previous owner, wanting to enjoy the morning air. They didn't have their cane; the weather was treating their joints well. Cass wondered briefly if the effect the weather would have on Euanthe had gone into Sokrates and Integrity's decision for where to settle. 

There was something about the set of Euanthe's shoulders, the careful schooling of their face, that set Cass a little on edge. In Euanthe's hands was a bag that looked to be quite heavy. Without any ceremony, they offered it to Cass. "Here. I thought this might be useful." 

Cass was so surprised that they took the bag automatically. When they looked inside the bag, they saw three other bags inside of it: one labeled "bone meal," one labeled "fertilizer," and a final one labeled "potting soil." 

They stared at Euanthe's offering. "What?"

"I don't want to presume, but…" They hesitated. "I did some research about the cultivation of several strains of tomato. The chances that it's been potted in sub-optimal soil are quite high, so I thought…" They trailed off.

"So you thought you'd just swoop in and fix things, just like that?" They couldn't keep the bitterness out of their words, and they didn't bother trying.

"No! That's not it. I thought…" Euanthe took a deep breath and started over. "For reasons I don't understand, this plant is important to you. I don't have to understand those reasons to want to help you if I can."

Cass snorted. "What, don't like your odds of living in the same house as me, so now you're trying to buy me off? Or did you have an actual emotional revelation about our relationship?"

There was no way Euanthe missed Cass's scorn, but they held themself composed. Cass almost hated them for it. Almost. Hating Euanthe for keeping their composure would be as useless as hating a bear for being brown. 

Euanthe closed their eyes as if gathering themself, then spoke. "You were right. There are things I could have done but didn't. I can't do them now, but I can try to do this." They paused and opened their eyes, meeting Cass's gaze with a sort of calm acceptance. "I accept the likelihood that it does not matter, but that doesn't mean I should not put in the effort." 

It was Cass's turn to pause. They studied their sibling for a few quiet moments, weighing their words against their demeanor. Euanthe stayed cool as they awaited Cass's reply, giving no real indication of their feelings. Typical. But they didn't flinch, didn't waver. There may have been a decade where they didn't speak, but Cass still had a good feel for Euanthe's character. They were stubborn. 

They meant what they said. 

Cass sighed and looked down at their hands. "Do you remember my friend? The one that looked like a parking robot?"

Euanthe nodded slowly, obviously considering their next words. "I do. It seemed like you two were very close. Their name was AuDy, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, you could say that," Cass agreed, trying to ignore the sharp pang of loss in their chest. "They told me something once, before everything went to shit, and I… Fuck, it's stupid, but I want to do this because of them." 

And Cass explained everything about "cultivate saplings" that they understood. Euanthe listened intently and nodded once Cass was done. "Thank you for sharing that," they said. 

"Yeah, sure," Cass replied, feeling suddenly exhausted. "Listen, can I just be alone for a moment?" 

Euanthe nodded. "Of course." 

*

Glimmer didn't have seasons as such—its axial tilt was minimal—but Sokrates and Integrity had chosen a temperate area for them to settle in. The climate was almost ideal for the tomato plant according to Cass's research. They resolved to plant the thing outside the next day, even though the sunburn on the back of Cass's neck was barely healed. Before they could leave through the back door, Sokrates presented them with a floppy straw hat with a giant brim.

"You look ridiculous," Euanthe said from their place at the kitchen table. 

"They look _sun-protected,_ " Sokrates replied. "Here, put on some sunscreen." 

"Okay, _Mom,_ " Cass said, putting emphasis on the galactic common word for a female parent. They took the sunscreen from their sibling and began applying it to every inch of skin that had any remote possibility of being exposed while they worked. Once that was done, they tossed the sunscreen back to Sokrates, who caught it out of the air with no issue. Their coordination had never been that good when the three of them were younger; age and probably also Integrity's influence had done it some good, it seemed. 

"Don't be out digging in the yard too late," Sokrates continued. "I invited Galatea and their family over for dinner." 

Euanthe narrowed their eyes at Sokrates. "And when, exactly, were you planning to mention this?" 

Sokrates rolled their eyes. "Right now? I just did." 

Cass didn't bother sticking around; they'd heard their siblings bicker enough to know where this was going. Instead, they pushed open the back door and emerged into the sunlight. The mid-morning air was cool (but not chilly) on Cass's face, a light breeze ruffling the stray hairs that Cass hadn't bothered to catch up on their braid. 

They took stock of the back yard with an eye for the optimal place to plant the tomato. The house was thankfully far enough removed from the beach that the ground wasn't sandy, and there were plenty of places where the tomato would get full sun. A gnarled tree of indeterminate age and species grew perhaps fifty feet from the house, offering what would probably be a welcome oasis of shade come high noon. 

After some deliberation, Cass picked a spot near the back stoop where it would be easy to poke their head out and check on it or cover it if the weather grew harsh. They arranged their supplies—the potting soil, the bone meal, the plant, a trowel, a watering can filled with a mixture of the fertilizer and water—and set to work. 

Cass was no stranger to working with their hands and getting them dirty, but there was a meditative quality to working with the earth that Cass had never experienced when stitching people up. There wasn't the pressure or urgency associated with a medical emergency to keep their focus honed, and the dirt was cool in contrast to the heat of blood. 

They followed the instructions they'd found for planting a mature tomato plant, but it hardly required all of their attention. Their mind wandered: how long would it take for this plant to fruit?; what would the lack of appreciable seasons do to its life-cycle as an annual?; would AuDy have preferred one of the succulents, or the fern, or the flower?

Had they made the right choice? 

Eidolons, they'd been such a dick to Aria about her own choices in the end, and yet here they were in a backwater town trying to start a garden. It had been a lot easier to say when they weren't sure they were going to successfully make it out alive. 

They finished covering the tomato's roots by hand and patted the earth down under their palms. The soil was black under their fingernails as they reached for the watering can and liberally applied the fertilizer mixture to the ground around the tomato. Then they sat back on their heels and stared at their handiwork. 

Had they made the right choice? 

"Looks good," Sokrates said from the door, startling Cass out of their reverie. When Cass glanced up at their sibling, the sun had noticeably moved in the sky. "Little lonely, though." 

Cass squinted at Sokrates. "Are you talking about me or the plant?" 

Sokrates got the far-away look on their face that indicated they were speaking with Integrity. A few moments later, they shrugged. "You wanna grab a shower and help me in the kitchen? Rather have you than Euanthe." 

Cass wiped the sweat from their forehead with the back of their hand. "Yeah, no shit. What'd you tell Galatea we were making. How many people are we expecting?" 

"Great, that's what I was hoping you'd say!" Sokrates grinned and offered Cass a hand up. "It's just gonna be Gala and their kid and their kid's kid. And you and Euanthe and me, I guess."

"Do we even have enough food to feed everyone?" Cass asked, skeptical. 

"Don't worry, I've got you covered." 

*

Euanthe hovered while Cass and Sokrates cooked. By 'I've got you covered,' Sokrates had meant that their pantry was even more full of junk food than their trip to Galatea's store would have indicated, which led to several judgemental noises from the eldest Pelagios as Cass and Sokrates worked. It was far from Cass's best effort in the kitchen, but they felt like they managed to wring _some_ nutrients from what they'd thrown together in a pinch. 

They hoped their impending guests liked casserole. 

Galatea and their kin arrived shortly after everything had been placed in the oven. Sokrates got to the door first (though Cass and Euanthe were not far behind) and greeted Galatea like an old friend. "Thank you for coming, Gala," they said and meant it. 

"Thank you for inviting us!" Galatea replied, grinning. "Whatever you're cooking smells delicious."

Sokrates ducked their head and gestured in Cass's direction. "Oh, I'm not cooking. That's all Agapios here. They're the chef in the family." 

"Well, it smells wonderful," Galatea reiterated, in Cass's direction this time. 

From behind Galatea, someone cleared their throat. "You're being rude," they said. 

Right, Euanthe had said they were bringing other family members with them. Galatea huffed out a short laugh and stepped aside. Behind them stood someone a little taller than Galatea and a little younger than Cass. They had dark hair in a neat Apoanntan plait, dark scales, and a toddler in their arms. 

"Oh, yes, forgive me. This is my child, Xenia Baruch Damaris, and my grandchild, Euanthe Damara Calixte." They gestured back at the younger person and the toddler. 

Cass could feel Euanthe go very still beside them at the mention of their—the baby's—name. They recovered quickly, though, and turned their palms up in greeting as Cass did the same. "It's nice to meet you and your kid, Xenia," Cass said. 

Xenia shifted baby-Euanthe in their arms and offered a lopsided grin. "Please, call me Xenni." 

"Of course," Sokrates said. They stepped aside and motioned their guests inside. "Come on in, make yourselves at home!" 

There was not much room for conversation before the oven timer went off, summoning Cass back into the kitchen. They garnished the casserole once they'd pulled it from the oven, then brought it to the dining table in the other room. A place had already been made for it at the center of the antique wooden table, and someone—Euanthe, if Cass had to guess—had laid out silverware at each of the place settings, and some serving utensils. 

Euanthe held baby-Euanthe while Sokrates, Xenia, and Galatea all wrestled to set up the collapsible high-chair that Xenia had brought with them. It seemed that furniture being a pain in the ass to assemble was a constant of the universe, even this far afield. Once that was done, though, it was time to eat. 

Sitting there at the table with Sokrates at the head of it and Euanthe across from them, a memory washed over them. The last time they'd all sat down together for a meal had been over a decade ago, but the memory hit Cass almost as hard as if it had been yesterday. Their mind couldn't help but superimpose the images of Sokrates and Euanthe when they'd been younger over their current selves. Sokrates had smiled a little wider and there had been fewer worry lines criss-crossing Euanthe's face. Yet the same feeling suffused the moment: the feeling of togetherness and the tenuous sense of the familial bonds between them. 

Xenia talked with Sokrates as they passed bread over the casserole. Euanthe engaged in polite conversation with Galatea about the difficulties of failing joints. Baby-Euanthe gurgled excitedly as they smeared a little bit of casserole around their plate. 

It was… nice. 

In that moment, Cass felt like maybe—just maybe—this could actually become home. 

*

Galatea, Xenia, and baby-Euanthe stayed well past the child's bedtime. Xenia helped Cass clear the dishes while Euanthe gently rocked the child who bore their name in their arms. When everything was put away and the hour had grown late, Galatea took back their grandchild and beamed at Cass, Sokrates, and Euanthe. "Thank you for welcoming us into your home, Iria. It was a delight. You are fine hosts." 

"The pleasure was all ours," Euanthe said. They were skilled at putting on a convincing smile—as competent a statesperson as they were, they had to be—but Cass couldn't help but think it was genuine. "I am certain I speak for both of my siblings when I say that you and your family are welcome back any time." 

"Ah, don't tell them that," Xenia said, rolling their eyes. "You'll find out that they're actually the neighborhood limpet. Once they get attached to someone, it's impossible to get rid of them." 

Galatea chuckled, shifting the toddler on their hip. "Don't mind them. I just like good company and I like holding close to the people I can find it in. Anyway, it's time we headed home. This old fish doesn't fancy dealing with a cranky one-year-old in the morning if we don't put them down for the night soon." 

"Of course, Gala," said Sokrates. "Good night, and thanks again." 

*

A quiet rhythm began to form as the Pelagios siblings settled into the community. Sokrates took up fishing, a hobby Cass would have never imagined they would be interested in. Being so still for so long seemed anathema to who they were as a person (though judging from the lack of catches, they were probably bad at it). Euanthe's pursuits were a little less surprising; they spent a great deal of time working with the local town council. Cass wouldn't have been shocked if they wound up running for a council seat once the next local election came around. 

The tomato plant did not remain lonely for long. As it flourished, Cass's drive to cultivate grew. They bought the succulents and arranged them around the back stoop, planted the flower in front of the front porch, and took the fern into the guest bathroom. Galatea, keen observer that they were, rested their hand on the back of Cass's when they made their last purchase. "I can special order anything you like," they said softly. "No extra fees for friends."

And so, Galatea became a regular fixture in their lives, along with Xenia and baby-Euanthe. They came to visit for dinner once a week (usually bringing Cass something new to plant), and Euanthe often volunteered to watch over the child. It was a side of their sibling that Cass had never seen. They were gentle and open in a way that caught Cass off-guard. Had they been like this with Sokrates when they were a baby? With Cass themself? 

One evening, Galatea stood beside Cass in the kitchen, chopping root vegetables while Cass kept whisking a roux. Sokrates was in the sitting room entertaining Xenni and their spouse, while Euanthe had claimed a chair in the corner to nap with the baby in their lap. Sokrates said something Cass couldn't catch, but Xenni and their spouse's laughter echoed even through the walls. 

Galatea sighed and set aside their knife. "Life is very kind sometimes, don't you think your Exaltation?" they asked, turning to Cass.

Their former title hit Cass like a smack to the face, and it was only discipline and muscle memory that kept Cass from stopping their whisking and ruining the roux. "I—I beg your pardon?" they stammered. 

Galatea only smiled, a soft and fond expression. "I've suspected for a while, though I don't really understand how it's true. But don't worry, I won't say a word. I don't think anyone else suspects." 

"How did you know?" Cass whispered. It didn't occur to them to try to keep lying to Galatea. They'd grown too close in Cass's time here. 

"You and your siblings are hardly subtle," Galatea said with a smirk. They laid a gentle hand on Cass's shoulder. "Your secret is safe with me. You all look happier than I've ever seen you in the news feeds. This life seems to suit you. I wouldn't want to ruin that." 

Cass considered for a moment, quickly adding the next ingredient to the roux. Finally, the nodded. "Yeah. It's a good life. I like it."

Picking up their knife, Galatea returned to their work. The fond smile remained in their face. "Then let's work to make it the best we can. Starting with this meal." 

Cass nodded, a contented smile spreading across their own face. "Yeah. Sounds like a good plan." 

*

It was a cool, misty morning the day that Cass made the decision. Sokrates had headed down to the beach just before sunrise, and Euanthe was still in bed. The house was quiet and still; it was easy for Cass to imagine that they were the only person for miles as they stared out the bay window in the breakfast nook. 

They turned on their data-pad and loaded up their news feed. There was no local news to speak of, and while tensions between Kesh and the Demarchy were running a little high, Cass's favored political analysts (and Cass themself) had faith in Maxine Ming's ability to de-escalate the situation. There were celebrations planned throughout the Branch to commemorate the day the last Apokine had ridden Rigour to its doom in a sun. And, tucked away in a mild puff piece, there was a photo of Aria and Jacqui together, grinning. Between them were two small children, and below that was the headline: "Executive Joie-Green and Wife Welcome New Members To Family." 

Cass had never seen her look so happy. 

It had been a year since they last spoke, and the final things they'd said to her had been so unkind. They'd talked down to her about her choice to save Jacqui in a fit of anger more at their own dire situation than at anything she had done. It hadn't been fair to her. 

Their data pad didn't have any saved contacts, just in case, but that didn't matter. They had three messaging IDs memorized, even now: the IDs Mako, Aria, and AuDy had used while they were still the Chime. It was the backchannel way they and Aria had scheduled their periodic sparring sessions, so the chances that she still kept the ID active were relatively high. 

They opened a messenger window on a throw-away ID and began composing. 

_Aria, it's been a while. You don't know who this message is from, and I can't tell you who I am. Though maybe you can guess based on where I sent it to. It's not like this is exactly a listed number._

_I just wanted you to know that I'm sorry for what I said to you. You made the right choice and I'm glad you did it. You deserve to have a wife and a family and to be successful. I'm happy that you're happy. I hope you get to stay that way._

_That's all I wanted to say. I just had to get it off my chest. Don't try to find me or contact me or anything like that. I've got a cover to maintain._

_This is goodbye, I guess. For real._

Cass hit the send button before they could think better of it. Their thoughts were out there now, for better or for worse. They set the data-pad aside and raised their mug of coffee to their lips while they drank in the view through the bay window. 

Two minutes later, their data-pad beeped. The notification said only one word. 

_Cass?_

**Author's Note:**

> It didn't come up in the story, but the full cover names for Sokrates and Euanthe were Iria Erasmus Leandre and Frona Nereida Lysias respectively.


End file.
